Working for the Steward
by Robert 'Fox' Kitsune
Summary: A one shot on Denethor's hatred of Gandalf, and how far his anger streaches when he hands that cold fury to the assasian Clasko


**Working for the steward**

Clasko strolled confidently towards the door of his lord. He shot a gloating smile at the underlings guarding the Stewards chamber. They were just with the Royal guard. He was miles above them. They were pathetic. Unfortunately it was on this thought that he tripped over his own feet, flying face first into the door. He quickly regained his composure and dared a glance at the Royal guard.

_So they're laughing, what do I care? _

Blushing a scarlet colour (and realising that he DID, in fact care) he swiftly entered the lord Denethor's chamber. Seated at the end of the room, the steward sat bent over himself, stroking something in his hand. Telling himself that he wasn't going to make a fool of himself in front of his lord, he approached the throne. What he saw surprised him.

_The horn of Gondor?_

"Has the lord Boromir returned, then?" he enquired. Boromir had been Clasko's mentor. Everything he knew, he had learnt under Boromir.

_All the honorable stuff anyway_

"He has been slain" the Steward replied without hesitation "by the white wizard"

_NO!_

Clasko had heard a lot in the last minute. It was enough. He couldn't take this. Boromir was gone. The white wizard! The traitor!

"Saruman" barely a whisper "That bastard!"

Denethor smiled "It wasn't Saruman, Clasko"

"But you said-"

"He died at the hands of the white wizard, true, but you are thinking of the wrong white wizard Clasko" he chuckled "I speak of Gandalf!"

"No!" Clasko screamed "I greeted him myself! I know him! He wouldn't!"

"He DID, Clasko"

Clasko shut up. Who was he to argue with his lord. He knew what he was to do. Denethor always came to Clasko for this kind of work. Discretion was his middle name, and he never missed a target.

"I know what I must do" he turned to leave

"Clasko" he barked "Don't act so rashly. Wait untill war day"

Clasko nodded to show he understood. He left the chamber.

At home later he still couldn't get the picture of Denethor stroking the horn out of his mind. Boromir was dead. Dead. He wasn't coming back.

_But I can still regain his honor_

He nearly laughed. Honor? He was a commen assasian. He worked the most underhanded career path availible.

"I still think" Lucille pressed on "that you have to stop this!"

"No" he replied angrily "Boromir was my friend. Gandalf killed him"

"How do you know that" she shouted "Denethor's using you!"

"No!" he added "the Steward wouldn't do that to me! Who would I be to trust my wife over my lord!"

She didn't reply. She just walked out, slamming the door behind her.

So war day came. As difficult as it was, Clasko managed to keep track of the white wizard, right up untill he dismounted from Shadowfax on the castle walls of the first level. Disguised as a soldier of Minas Tirith, and sporting a bow and sword, he watched as the first of the seige towers hit the wall and the first wave of Orc's attacked. He turned and ran up the steps of a nearby tower, pausing only to avoid the sweep of the Nazgul. By the time he reached the top, there was no life other than him. Perched on the wall, he took aim with his bow.

Gandalf was in hurried conversation with the famous hobbit. The hobbit turned, and ran. Now Clasko had a clear shot at the traitor. He took aim. He heard yet another Catipult fire hitting Minas Tirith.

_For Boromir_

Peregrin Took ran straight into a guard of Minas Tirith. This, he thought, was really not his day.

"Sir" he stammered "On the tower! He's going to kill-"

The guard took one look in the direction Pippin was motioning and shook his head, before raising his sword and getting back to the defence of the city. Pippin was bewildered, and looked to see that the tower was gone. It was just a pile of rubble now, which Orc's and humans alike were clambering over, in an attempt to avoid attacks coming their way. He shook his head and turned his attention back to protecting Denethor.

_I could've sworn though..._


End file.
